The Last Perfect Summer of Richard Dawlish

by Caron Allan

  Then came Penny dancing yet again with Gervase, and yet again Dottie couldn’t help but wonder just how close their friendship was. Gervase seemed to have a knack for developing friendships with women. What Dottie wouldn’t give to have each of these neatly studied and labelled so she could understand what each woman meant to Gervase. She scrutinised them carefully, Penny liked to monopolise Gervase, Dottie had noticed, but as they went round the floor again, she also noticed that Gervase was moving back a little from Penny as they danced. He glanced across to smile at Dottie a couple of times, and each time he did so, Penny reclaimed his attention with a bump of hip or thigh, or bosom, keeping her eyes fixed on his face, and speaking to him whenever he looked away from her. Yes. Dottie’s fears were confirmed. Penny was in love with Gervase.

  Dottie became aware of someone nearby, and glancing up she saw Deirdre pulling out her chair to sit down. She glanced briefly at Dottie, sent a vague half-smile in Dottie’s direction, then reached for a glass and drank the entire contents in a single gulp, then refilled the glass. Belatedly, she waved the bottle in Dottie’s direction, but Dottie demurred. The cause of Deirdre’s distraction was apparent: Reggie was propping up the bar on the other side of the room, gloomily drinking shorts.

  Meanwhile, Mike and the redhead danced by, the redhead looking thoroughly fed up, and Mike, flushed and unsteady, was talking loudly at her. Dottie caught a few words above the music. He was telling her some kind of vulgar joke. Perhaps he thought he was in a billiard hall or at his club, Dottie thought. After about another ten minutes, Reggie swayed over to invite his wife to dance. But he made a point of not looking at Dottie’s sitting so close by, and she felt like a pariah. He was still offended, then, she thought. She felt a little dismayed that he could be so easily upset by something she’d not even put into words. And after all, she hadn’t intended any offence, he was taking it to a ridiculous degree. What a thoroughly wretched evening it was turning into. She wondered how late they were likely to stay. The evening felt as though it would never end.

  The current dance ended, the orchestra stood as one and took a bow to applause, then retired for their break. Chattering, laughing couples returned to their tables and waiters hurried forward to take orders for drinks.

  Dottie made herself smile pleasantly as the rest of the party began to fill the empty seats around her. Penny sat beside Dottie, and after addressing one or two trivial remarks to her, turned to speak to Algy. Dottie, on the end of the row, was effectively blocked off. But Penny’s plan—if it was a deliberate plan—was thwarted when Gervase returned. He insisted on everyone shuffling around so that he was able to put his chair next to Dottie on the other side, and along with Deirdre, he made sure she was part of the conversation. Mike and Reggie went off outside to smoke. Before they managed to push their way back through the throng, the orchestra was striking up again for the second half of the evening’s programme.

  Immediately Gervase grabbed Dottie’s arm and almost dragged her behind him onto the dancefloor. Glancing over his shoulder back towards the table, Dottie could see Penny was watching them with an annoyed expression.

  ‘I think Penny was hoping to have another dance with you,’ she said.

  ‘All in good time. I want to have fun too, you know!’

  Dottie laughed at this and leaned into his arms. Unlike when he danced with Penny, Gervase held her close, his eyes on hers, or half-closed as he placed his cheek against hers in the way that gave her goose-bumps all down her arms.

  Her dances with him always seemed far too short, however. And to her surprise—and a certain amount of dismay—she found Reggie cutting into the third dance and Gervase gave her a sorrowful little smile and stepped aside, only to be pounced on by Penny.

  If she was surprised that Reggie wanted to dance with her again, she thought at least it might indicate that he was no longer offended. The first thing he said to her was, ‘Sorry for acting like a chump earlier. Completely off, leaving you stranded in the middle of the floor like that. It was very wrong of me.’

  ‘It’s quite all right,’ Dottie said, hastening to mend the breach. ‘I’m so sorry for my careless remark. I certainly didn’t intend any offence. I’m afraid I rather put my foot in it.’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said magnanimously. But she felt a little annoyed she was trying to soothe his feelings when she hadn’t done anything wrong. He seemed keen to make amends, though, and she silently resolved to let him return to the harmless if dreary subject of lupins.

  But he wanted to explain about Miranda.

  ‘You’re quite right, in a way,’ he said. ‘I mean it was, of course, many years ago, long before I met my wife.’

  ‘Oh, of course.’

  ‘And we didn’t keep it up. We were rather keen on one another at one time, and I had hoped, but...’ He let the thought drift away. He said nothing else for a minute or so, and Dottie had no doubt that this was mainly due to Mike Maynard dancing nearby with Penny in his arms. She looked like a woman who was marking time until some special event happens, Dottie thought. Beyond them, Deirdre and Gervase were dancing.

  Once they were clear of them, Reggie continued as if he hadn’t just been silent for the best part of ninety seconds. ‘But there’s nothing between us now. She’s married, and I’m married. Happily. So, in answer to your original question, of course, as an old, and hopefully dear friend, I’m looking forward to seeing Miranda again. But that’s all it is.’

  ‘Of course,’ Dottie commented yet again. ‘I’m sure she’s looking forward to seeing all her friends again. It’ll be fun talking about the old days.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Reggie, not at all convincingly. And then he was back on the subject of lupins. After another minute, Dottie felt she could write a treatise on the care and cultivation of lupins with no difficulty whatsoever.

  Finally, the last dance came, a rather slower than usual waltz, and she was thrilled to find herself in Gervase’s arms once more. He held her, like Mike and Algy, rather closer than was conventional. But unlike with them, she was perfectly content to permit it. She wished the dance would never end, she wanted to move with him in time to the music and forget about everything and everyone. Her cheek rested against his chin, and under the cover of conversation, he managed to nuzzle her neck with a suggestion of a kiss that sent flames through her whole being.

  But the evening ended, as they do, and the party broke up and went their own ways. Gervase drove them back to Penny’s house. In the car, Dottie sat by the window, Penny was once more in the middle, where she was able to monopolise Gervase and the conversation all the way back, complaining about this or that, or remarking about the music or the band, or the crowds of dancers, or the bumpy surface of the road. Gervase said little in reply, merely agreeing with her now and then and looking straight ahead at the road.

  She had hoped that Gervase would linger, but he said goodnight as soon as he’d seen them to the door. He winked at Dottie as he turned away. It was better than nothing, she told herself, as she followed Penny into the gloomy drawing room. Not a lot better, it had to be said. She felt irritable.

  They began to divest themselves of their gloves and evening wraps. Dottie prepared to gather them up to take them upstairs, but Penny waved a hand.

  ‘Oh don’t bother, Dottie dear. Margaret can do that. It is her job after all.’

  She spoke so dismissively that Dottie was taken aback. Surely they had once been friends? Even allowing for Margaret’s unfortunate situation, how had they grown apart to such a degree?

  They sat on separate sofas, facing one another across a low japanned coffee table from at least fifty years earlier. It felt very formal, and gloomy in spite of the light from the lamp on the sideboard. But the sofas were too hard to be comfortable, and the backs were high to ensure any tendency to slouch was discouraged, and the sitter was obliged to remain bolt upright. The arms of the sofas were merely a continuation of the backs, and at the same height, so Dottie found she had to sit in the pe
rfect, approved posture as taught at her private ladies’ college in London. Without thinking she exhaled sharply, wafting her soft curling fringe up and down, and causing Penny to frown and say, ‘I expect you’re finding it all rather dull here with me. I’m too old and set in my ways for you youngsters.’

  It was only good manners for Dottie to demur, and it seemed a bit ridiculous to her that Penny kept saying things like this when she was only ten or so years older than Dottie. It seemed she wasn’t emphatic enough, for Penny continued, ‘Oh yes, I realise now just how out of date I am. My clothes, for example, are at least two seasons behind. You are so up-to-the-minute in the lovely outfits you wear during the day—so comfortable and—well, fun. And tonight—that’s a delightful little frock. I imagine it cost your father a great deal.’

  Dottie couldn’t help but feel as though she’d been insulted in some vague way. She murmured something indistinct, still puzzling over Penny’s words and trying to pinpoint exactly what she’d meant by them. She found herself saying, ‘I’m sure we’re much closer in age than you might think.’

  Penny said, ‘Excuse me, dear.’ She left the room, returning a minute or two later. ‘I’ve just told Margaret to bring some coffee in. Really, one shouldn’t need to ask!’ Dottie was wondering why she hadn’t simply rung the bell, but there was no need to speak, as Penny said, ‘Now. Where were we? Ah yes—well I should think I easily have ten years’ advance on you, dear. Not that ladies talk about their age, as your mother has probably told you. But in mourning, and of course, living out here in the country, one gets rather...’

  The door opened, and Margaret came in with the cups, sugar bowl and cream jug on a tray. She set it down quite heavily on the brilliant surface of the coffee table, which made Dottie wince for the highly sheened finish. Her back to Penny, Margaret shot Dottie a grin, turned to give Penny an odd little bow and said, ‘Ma’am,’ then left the room.

  Dottie felt so uncomfortable. A covert glance at Penny showed expression as one of satisfaction. That strange cat-that-got-the-cream look again. Dottie felt a creeping discovery that she didn’t like Penny at all.

  Dottie sat at the dressing table, plying her face and neck with night cream. She allowed the cream some time to be absorbed into the skin, bending forward to brush her hair vigorously the wrong way before sitting up again and brushing it back the other way. Then she took two facial tissues and carefully wiped away the excess cream.

  As she did all this, she was thinking. She went back over the details of the long evening. She thought: Penny is in love with Gervase, and she is jealous of me; Deirdre is unhappy about Reggie. Mike is an outrageous flirt and possibly worse, and drinks like a fish. Algy and Deirdre dance really well together and complement each other perfectly, which is a shame as she is married to the lupin-mad, prickly Reggie; and lastly Reggie, so ready to take offence at the mildest question, is definitely still carrying a torch for the long-absent Miranda, no matter what he says to the contrary.

  Dottie undressed and put on her nightgown. Wrapping a negligee about her, she wandered along the corridor to the bathroom. By the time she came back and got into bed, she had made up her mind that the long friendship enjoyed by the group was no longer something she admired or aspired to achieve. Dottie was now convinced it was stifling and claustrophobic, like ivy clinging too close about the branches of a tree, covering it until almost none of the bark showed through, cutting off the flow of life-giving sap and blocking out the sunlight.

  Chapter Nine

  DOTTIE WOKE TO HEAR the telephone bell jangling in the hall below. She was on the point of getting out of bed to answer it, when the bell stopped, and she could discern the soft sound of Margaret’s voice.

  A few minutes later, there was a tap on Dottie’s door, then Margaret came in.

  ‘Excuse me, Miss, there was a telephone call from Mr Gervase. He wonders if you’d like to go out with him in his car today? If you’re not busy? And are you ready for a cup of tea?’

  ‘Oh yes! To both!’ Dottie said. She got out of bed. ‘Don’t worry about bringing the tea up, I’ll come down for it. Does Mr Parfitt want me to phone him and let him know?’

  Margaret smiled. ‘No. I took the liberty of accepting on your behalf. I thought you’d prefer it to sitting around here all day. He said he’ll be here at ten o’clock, so you’ve got plenty of time.’

  Dottie thanked her. If he wasn’t coming until ten o’clock then she had time for a bath. She felt so excited—just to get out of the house, as Margaret had suggested—that she was almost running about the place as she gathered her things and went to the bathroom. She hummed to herself. Even when she realised, belatedly, that the invitation would be likely to include Penny, her buoyant mood wasn’t dampened. Penny out of the house with Gervase would be far easier to manage than Penny at home without him. And far pleasanter.

  But Penny was left at home. She hadn’t been included in Gervase’s invitation, and as she said goodbye to Dottie and Gervase, Dottie saw that Penny made no attempt to hide her resentment. As Gervase started the car, Dottie put a hand on his arm.

  ‘Don’t you think we ought to take her with us? It won’t take her long to get ready.’

  He took her hand in his, lifted it and kissed her fingertips. He laughed. ‘Let her sulk. She’ll only be in the way.’

  And off they went, Dottie with an elated sense of playing truant. She spent the whole journey torn between looking out at the passing scenery and staring at Gervase’s profile which, she decided was not only handsome but noble. Her heart sang, and William Hardy, so recently her one and only love, was very close to being forgotten.

  Gervase began to tell her a little about the area—and once they’d left the green rolling hills behind, Dottie was surprised to see coal mines and sprawling red-bricked mills scarring the landscape.

  ‘I had no idea this area was so industrialised,’ she commented. ‘I’m afraid I’m shamefully ignorant about the Midlands.’

  ‘Well if you ask me, it’s not a particularly nice part of the country. But I suppose we must have our coal, and our pottery, wool and cotton. I’d much rather live in a pretty location, but it’s conveniently close to my work. In fact there are plenty of experts who tell us that it’s due to industrialisation that we have so much crime and the criminal element, so I suppose I’m in the best place. Sorry I’m not one of your leisured class.’ He sent her a teasing grin.

  Dottie almost made the mistake of pointing out that for a fortnight he’d done nothing more than ferry Penny about—and for the last three days, herself too, of course—and indulge in leisurely activities. But she held back, not sure if he would take the teasing in good part or be utterly offended. She still didn’t know him well enough. Then almost immediately he said, ‘Of course, at the moment I’m taking some of my annual holidays, but tomorrow morning I’ll be back there, with my nose to the grindstone, worse luck. So I shan’t have quite so much time to enjoy your company.’

  ‘What a shame you’ve had to waste all your holiday on being a gentleman!’ This she did say in a teasing tone, and he gave her a broad grin in response, which melted her heart just that little bit more.

  ‘For a man, it’s always a pleasure to be at the beck and call of such lovely ladies.’ He dropped a kiss on the back of her hand.

  Ordinarily Dottie would have wrinkled her nose at a man’s use of such an outmoded sentiment, but on this occasion she decided to overlook it, saying instead, ‘Well, on behalf of lovely ladies everywhere, we are very grateful to you for your noble endeavour.’

  He sent her another look, a frank, toe-curling look. ‘Hmm. I hope that means I’ve earned a reward? Perhaps you might show your gratitude with a proper kiss?’ His tone was bland, in contrast to his look.

  Dottie, blushing but laughing, turned to look at the grimy mining village they were driving through. ‘Oh, I don’t think you’ve been quite that noble.’

  ‘Damn,’ he said softly, but he smiled as he said it.

  Men s
tood on the corner of the street outside a public house. They turned to stare as the car passed them. There was not another car in sight. Nottingham lace hung at the windows of the small terraced houses. Even the lace appeared in need of a good wash. The men’s clothes were dirty, and in some cases quite ragged. A filthy child played in a puddle.

  ‘It doesn’t look very prosperous,’ Dottie said.

  ‘Well, it wouldn’t, would it? It’s all working-class housing. The men all work in the mine. There used to be three mines here, but now there’s only one, so they have shorter shifts, to keep as many of them in work as possible. But obviously if they’re not working the same hours they used to work, they can’t expect to get the same wages.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Penny’s father Norman Maynard sold all three mines to the government a few years back, but it was quickly discovered that it was cheaper to close two of them than to keep them working, so that’s what they did.’

  ‘Did the mines run out of coal?’

  ‘No, silly, they just didn’t yield enough to make a decent profit.’

  ‘So, some of the men are unemployed? And the others are sharing their jobs, which means they all get lower wages?’

  ‘At least they get wages. It’s their own fault. They should have worked harder in the other mines and kept them profitable. What with all these demands for more money and better working conditions, and shorter hours! Maynard was a generous employer. Too generous if you ask me. He gave them a wage increase, and cut hours, but of course, that meant his overheads went up, and the pits became less profitable. The way these miners talk, you’d think they should be earning as much as me!’